


Culpable love

by Vazqmos



Category: Football - Fandom
Genre: BVB, Bayern München, F/M, Football, Love, Messi - Freeform, Romance, Ronaldo - Freeform, School, Teacher and Student, World Cup, affair, championsleague, dortmund - Freeform, fcbayern, griezmann, marco reus - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-19 06:43:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22006801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vazqmos/pseuds/Vazqmos
Summary: How will Andrea manage to start a complete new school and especially with such a handsome teacher?
Relationships: Love - Relationship, Relationship - Relationship, amor, amour - Relationship, female and male - Relationship, straight
Kudos: 3
Collections: football shoots





	Culpable love

The gentle tapping of rain drops was a sound that should have made Andrea feel more calm, but at that moment in time it was only successful at furthering her misery. The droplets fell like they simply could not think of anything better to do, an ocean of laziness revolving around them. Long expressions of anger were sent to her father in hope of him turning around and confessing that it was all just a joke, but they ended in obvious failures. She disliked her situation, in fact, she loathed it. 

Her father had forced them out from Paris and into this complete new city. It was a concept she would never be able to understand. He thought she would find comfort in the new things he had gotten for her, the new car, the new house, the new clothes. She could not care less. He was a man obsessed with nothing but the materialistic perspectives of life. She felt furious, but she was fully aware of how she had to behave, she could never go against him. Always in the need of smiling and nodding her head in agreement, but now she had grown tired of it. 

The car stopped and so did her endless stream of consciousness. 

Munich International School. 

The moment she had been dreading the most of all. Her hands drenched in sweat as she ripped open the car door, anxiety and thoughts invaded her mind, it made it difficult to focus on the world which surrounded her. She had promised herself to not have high expectations when it came to this school, because with expectations there always came disappointment. 

The rain had not stopped, it had only become more violent. The droplets fell furiously now. Andrea had to run in order to not get wet. However, she seemed to have failed at that too, her long brown hair was soaked in water, appearing now to be much darker than normal. She searched her entire bag and was eased to find her timetable, the school had sent it home to her a few days ago. Her eyes searched over each day, she found out that on a Monday morning she had history. 

Her lips turned into a little smile, she could feel how excited she was to go to class. She took pleasure in history. Who conquered who, who killed who, people who rose to power and abused it. She knew everything. She could feel how her breath became heavier after she had ran up each stair step, the watch on her wrist told her she was late. She mumbled a few random words, unsure as to how she should introduce herself. No matter how many times she had practiced in the mirror she was still completely clueless. She quickly patted her hair down, it had fallen into soft curls which annoyed her.

She knocked on the door... or maybe she should have just opened it? The confusion on her face was easily detectable. To her surprise the class was extremely small, there were only a few students to be seen, most of them being males too. She was too busy observing the class that she had not even noticed the teacher yet.

"You're late." He said without even looking at her. His back turned to the whole class and his hands were busy writing away at a military green board. He was nicely dressed with a navy suit, she wondered if he always dressed like this. Andrea could feel how the rest of the students were looking at her, she were looking at no one in particular, into empty space. 

"I'm sorry. I'm new." She let out nervously after a few seconds, which in reality felt like ten hours. She fidgeted with the side of her light blue backpack. The teacher finally looked her in the eyes with a surprised look on his face, she wondered why, maybe it was because her clothes were entirely soaked with rain water. Uncomfortable was the word for how she felt stood there in front of everyone, her skirt felt too tight on her body, but this was something that excited the boys even more. 

She hated the feeling of being new, she had never felt it before though, she had been homeschooled from a young age. It also interested her in a sense that she could start with blank pages. She could be anyone, because no one knew her here. This was not Paris. 

"Your name?" He asked, his eyes still on her, she looked down, a little blush spread across her cheeks, she did not know why it had appeared and felt incredibly embarrassed. "Andrea Blanchette" she replied and got a nod in return. "My name is Mr. Hummels" he said and pointed to a free seat next to another student. She gave him a smile and quickly sat down, not only embarrassed at the part where she had blushed in front of her teacher, but quite embarrassed of her entire entrance. She felt like slamming her head against the desk. 

"And if you don't mind me asking, where are you from, Andrea Blanchette?" The teacher asked, she liked the way he said her name, the fact that he pronounced her last name correctly too made her feel something she had never felt before. "I am from France" she replied a little bit too quick for her taste, "Paris" she added. Mr. Hummels lips seemed to linger open, like he had wished to say something else, but instead he went back to his teaching.

Andrea did not know whether it was his German accent that made things difficult to understand, maybe it was the way he moved his hands creatively all around the air as he spoke, or could it have been the passion in his eyes? Perhaps it was just his entire appearance that made everything so incredibly hard to focus. Whatever it was, she admired it. Something he did do well was make history seem interesting, even for the students who usually would be half asleep. 

His hair was even curlier than hers, there was something about it that made her feel safe. It reminded her of an ex lover, Lucian Bretón, a name she often thought about but no longer had any significance to her. She could only hear half of the words that were being said in the room, but what she did hear was the guy who sat right next to her. She still had not noticed him, too focused on looking focused. 

"Can I borrow a pen?" He wondered, she was so unorganized that she was not even sure if she had another one. She kept looking in her bag, but could not seem to find one. But when she finally did she gave it to him, his hand touched hers instead of the black pen that she had held up. He gave her a look that made trouble nothing but inevitable. 

"Robert Lewandowski." 

She loved the bright blue colour of his eyes and how his dark brown hair was styled, "Lewand- I cant even say it" she let out a soft chuckle. "Lewandowski" he repeated but slower this time, Andrea mumbled it to herself a few times until she got it right. "I like the way you say my name better" amusement lingered in his tone alongside an intoxicated look in his eyes. It was almost impossible to ignore the deep dimples that appeared on the sides of his cheeks as he smiled.

She was sure she had fallen in love.  
Sigh...only if it was that easy.


End file.
